Coconut-Curry Peanut Sauce

So, what do you think — is it okay to self-medicate if you’re doing it intentionally?

A little background: Before my initial “real” diagnosis with depression, and even a bit afterward (even until I began counseling), I had a propensity to drink a smidge more than is generally considered a good idea. This decreased significantly after I started taking anti-depressant medication (late 2001), and pretty well vanished after I dove into counseling (mid 2003). Drinking makes perfect sense in retrospect; depression would often present for me in the form of anxiety, and a drink (or five) took the edge off. Heck, I was even an affable drunk on most ocassions when I imbibed liberally. For various reasons, I needed a little “help” relaxing in social situations, and booze was just the ticket. As a nice irony, I was sober the night I conceived Maya. Buzzed, at the very most — but closer to sober.

Anyway, not wanting to go deep here. I’m just saying, I’m sipping on a Diet Dr. Pepper with a shot or so of Captain Morgan’s in it, and it’s…nice. (I’m normally a wine-and-dark-beer kind of girl, but the rum/DP combo has some familiar happy memories.) There’s also a pint of B&J “Dublin Mudslide” sitting in my freezer. Oh, and I’m cooking. While some people go right off food when they’re depressed, I use it as comfort.

Cooking was the whole point for this post. With my current shut-in sort of life, I am inclined to eat out often. It’s not that I’m a clutz in the kitchen; au contraire. After I moved to Colorado, I so missed the restaurant culture of Houston that I found myself frantically trying to recreate various dishes from my former favorite spots. These days, I eat out because I simply *need* to be around people. It doesn’t even matter that I’m not with them and talking to them — we ate at (Big Italian Chain) the other night, and I thoroughly enjoyed the raucous laughter from the foursome at the table one over. Maya enjoys it too, and flirts with anyone who’ll give her attention. She is her mama’s child.

But I miss cooking. Living alone, I just don’t feel inspired to cook and try out new ideas. I hope that when I return to a life beyond working at home that I’ll cherish my at-home time and actually enjoy indulging this domestic goddess side of myself. Perhaps I’ll even gain an audience someday.

Tonight’s Fare: Chicken and Vegetables with Coconut-Curry Peanut Sauce

The base for this sauce is a peanut sauce (for sate’) shamelessly lifted from Gourmet, circa 1992 (but I found it via Epicurious.com). To make it “mine,” I added the coconut milk and a generous helping of red curry. YUM. It’s close to, but not quite, a copy of the Mussamun sauce I so adored back at Patu in Houston’s Rice Village. If my grocery stores had the courtesy to carry actual red curry PASTE, it would be even better — but one had only green paste, and the other had no paste at all, only red curry powder. Ingrates. I opted for the powder.

As a matter of practice, add “ish” to any of my measurements that aren’t pre-set (ie, cans). I’m that kind of a chef.

- 1 cup creamy peanut butter
- 1 can (14oz) chicken stock
- 2 Tbsp minced ginger
- 2-1/2 Tbsp soy (I prefer tamari)
- 1/3 cup (plus a little; the limes were juicy) freshly squeezed lime juice
- 3 Tbsp brown sugar
- 1 can coconut milk
- 2 Tbsp red curry powder (if using paste, I think 1T would be perfect.)

Slowly warm first six ingredients until well blended, and warm to a bubble. Add coconut milk and curry, stir well, and simmer for long enough for all the flavors to meet, greet, and exchange business cards.

Stir fry whatever you happen to fancy. Blend a bit of sauce into the pan. Serve over rice, or not, whatever your preference.

Makes: Looking at my 2-1/2 quart sauce pan, it’s about 1/3 to 1/2 full. Yes, I’m an “ish” girl.